I Believe In You
by NightShade248
Summary: Just because a child is a child does not mean they will only believe in the Guardians. Every child is different, with different personalities, and different believes. May or may not remain a one-shot or be continued. Rated T because I'm paranoid. If continued, may or may not become a romance or a cool friendship.


**I only got into ROTG a few years after it was released. But since I wanted to take a break from How To Train Your Dragon, I thought I'd do another popular movie.**

 **I don't own ROTG.**

I Believe In You

RoTG FanFiction

It was a dark and rather gloomy day in the small town of Clinton. The clouds covered the sun almost completely. It looked like it would rain soon, and pretty heavily at that, the clouds so grey they were almost black, small sounds of slowly growing thunder rumbled the sky.

It was eleven-thirty a.m. that day. At the local elementary school, the kindergarten class was just let out into the recess yard. Some of the recess monitored were considering taking the children inside early due to the current weather. The last thing they needed was to bring soaking wet children inside, not to mention the children might get sick from the cold.

All the small children were playing, oblivious to the sky. Playing hop-scotch, jump rope, swinging on the swings, playing on the playground equipment, or simply chasing after each other in various games of tag and hide 'n' seek. Or simply rolling around in the green grass. Every child was playing with their friends.

All, except one...

Little five-year-old Rosie was bouncing a small rubber ball against the ground in the back of the playground, near the wooded area surrounding the recess yard.

Rosie was a nice child, however she was a loner at heart for such a young age. She saw the world differently than everyone else. She believed in all things good (Santa Claus, Easter Bunny) and bad (Boogeyman).

Rosie was rather dark for her age.

The little girl was staring up at the sky. _'Wow,'_ she thought. _'It sure is getting dark. I wonder where it's coming from.'_

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she lost track of her grip on her rubber ball, and it went bouncing into the woods.

She looked at the chaperones watching the other little children. Surely they wouldn't notice her leaving to get her ball. She'd only be gone five minutes (Even though she couldn't tell time yet). So Rosie went off to find her rubber ball.

It had actually rolled off a lot farther away than Rosie had expected. She walked for several yards before she finally found her ball in a thorny bush. It took her forever to get it out.

When she finally did, she looked up.

A strange man was staring down at her.

He wore an excessive amount on black, and was in black robes with black shoes. He had black hair that was somewhat spiked, and grey skin, boney fingers and was very tall. He looked as dark as the current sky, as if he were the embodiment of the darkness covering the sun.

He stared at her with a stoic, unamused expression, like he was expecting her to leave any second.

Even at five-years-old, Rosie could sense that this man had a sadness to him. He seemed unhappy, lost. He had a loneliness she had never seen before (Or as much loneliness a child her age could figure out).

Due to his sadness and her age, Rosie was unaware of the impossible danger she was potentially in. "Wow mister," She said. "You're really tall. Taller than my daddy. And your skin looks kind of grey. Are you sick?"

The man looked quite surprised that Rosie was speaking to him, as if he didn't expect her to see him standing there.

"I got sick like that once," Rosie said absentmindedly. "I had to stay home from school for a whole week. I had to stay in bed and wasn't allowed to play, which was no fun.

"Is that why you're outside when you're sick? 'Cause it's no fun staying in bed?" She continued. "Do you wanna play ball with me?"

The man continued to stare at her, his strange golden eyes filled with shock.

Then he reached down and picked up the ball from Rosie' tiny hands.

"Yes. Yes I would like that very much."

Rosie actually saw that man several times during her years in elementary school.

She saw him again in first grade. She saw him in the recess yard through the window of the second floor art room. It was as if he were looking for her. Noticing him, Rosie drew a drawing of him and her together outside by the trees. But when Rosie went to see him, he was gone.

She saw him again in second grade. She had forgotten to grab her lunch before her mother drove her to school and was pouting at one of the tables. He came out of nowhere and gave her a big orange, to which she peeled and shared with him.

Rosie saw him, not once, but twice during her year as a third grader. The first time, she was in gym class, and everyone was playing a game similar to dodge balls, only with the foam balls. He showed up from behind the bleachers, picked up a stray ball from the floor, then threw it, hitting the gym teacher square in the head. It made Rosie laugh as her teacher's face turned red and demanded to know who threw it.

Although Rosie did remember being puzzled, since the man was still in the room at the time (the teacher even looked straight at him a few times), yet it was as if he was invisible to everyone else.

The second time, Rosie was in class, and the teacher was giving a lecture about addition and subtraction, and the man stood behind her the whole time. At one point, he planted his hand firmly on the board, smudging the answer the teacher had written up their, proceeding to confuse her

The very last time Rosie saw him was in fourth grade, and it wasn't even at school.

It was at the cemetery.

See, Rosie's great-grandfather, Pappy, had passed away a few years before, and her family was visiting his grave. Rosie was kneeling over Pappy's grave, while her family began searching for the graves of other family members. A tradition of sorts in the family. The man showed up behind her.

"I am so sorry for your lose," he said. "I know how it feels to lose someone you care about very deeply."

Then, seemingly out of thin air, the man pulled out a rose. A pure black rose, steam, petals, thorns, it was completely back. Rosie stared at it in awe.

He set it in front of the grave, and a small bush of black roses appeared.

"Ooo, pretty," Rosie cooed.

The man looked down at her before bending over and plucking a rose from the bunch.

He kneeled down and handed it to her.

"You're the first person to have ever believed in me in so long, Rosie," he said, pinning the rose to her black, curly hair. "If it could only last forever... but, alas, even I am aware that it does not wit that way. But it doesn't matter. In my eyes, you will always be my little Pitch Black Rose."

"Thank you, mister," Rosie said, admiring her new flower.

"Call me Pitch," he said. "I am Pitch Black, my little Rosie."

Pitch walked her to the car alongside with her family, only to disappeared soon after.

 **This is basically exactly what it sounds like; Pitch meets his first real believer in Moon-knows-how-long, and he likes her, but he believes it won't last, so he gives her a gift to remember him by.**

 **This whole thing is written like a first chapter, but I actually have no idea if I'll continue this story, or if it will remain a one-shot. I haven't worked out any basic plot of the story, and I don't know if I will. Maybe I will, but not until a while into the future, as I am already doing one FanFiction, and I like to do one at a time.**


End file.
